While Batman Doesn't Come
by BlackBat07
Summary: Robin waits patiently.


**While Batman doesn't come, Robin waits patiently.**

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The sound of drops falling was the only noise he could hear besides his thoughts. They fell slowly, one by one, from a pipe above him, always landing in the same spot on his forehead. With arms and legs stuck there was nothing else to do but think. Think, think, think. Trying to figure some way to run away, only to see that the Justice League coming to meet him, because that's what the Justice League did: rescue people, even if it was a little late.

He could almost see the tears that were gathering in the corners of M'gann's eyes, the relieved and proud faces of Superboy and Aqualad, Artemis's scowl (even though she was also relieved she would never show it) and Kid Flash's huge smile. He could even feel his bones being crushed by the meta-human he considered his best friend. The expressions of the League were also varied, ranging from concern to pride. He had survived all tortures and was going home with his family.

Family... Batman.

There was only one person who wasn't smiling at him: his mentor.

As he approached, Robin felt everything around him disappear; his team and friends' affection gone and no one who could help him. He stood staring at the tall man, realizing how small he was compared to the hero.

There was no concern or relief on his face and even he couldn't see through the white slits covering his eyes, Robin knew that there was nothing but disappointment and disgust.

"What took you so long?"

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Ploc Ploc Ploc.

Robin realized that it was just his unnecessarily active imagination. The Justice League hadn't appeared. Batman

hadn't appeared. His only companion was the relentlassly falling water. But he was not afraid because, after all, Batman always comes.

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Ploc Ploc Ploc.

A week had passed.

A week of nothing but blood and water. Scientists came and went, doing experiments on him and testing his limits. At no time they removed his mask and he was glad, at least Batman couldn't reprimand him for that. But his mask was the least least of Robins troubles.

.

.

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. Another two days and he had given up on fighting. The men came, smiled and injected him with something; Robin looked up, always tied to that operating table and seeing the wicked smiles. He felt like a circus freak: people looked, laugh, then ignored and followed their lives.

He didn't care when the toxin of fear began to run through his veins, just looked at the pipe above his head waiting for everything to end.

Stay awake. Stay alive.

He saw his parents fall. Again. And again and again... As if it were no more than a movie. All the most important people in his life: Barbara, Roy, Wally, Young Justice, the Justice League, Alfred... Bruce. Each of them falling, one after another. He wanted to scream but every time he tried it as if

glass shards tore at his throat, he did the only thing he could: cry.

Stay sane. Stay alive.

Until Batman arrives.

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Ploc Ploc Ploc.

Two weeks, five days and thirteen hours of captivity and the torture was worse. There was water, lots of water, and a stun gun. Scientists came and went, asking questions – first president of the United States of America? The color of the sky? World War II?... Always varied. But there was one question they never asked: Who is Batman?

Anxiety made the situation more and more painful. When would they ask about the Bat? When they would remove his mask and realize that he was the orphan circus boy adopted by a billionaire? When...

When everything would end?

He laughed at his own misfortune. 'Stay sane' crossed off his list.

Stay alive.

Stay awake. Until Batman arrives.

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Suddenly the drops began to sound eerily pleasant and his mind began to relax. Sounds like a lullaby, he thought as he

closed his eyes, the same that my mother sang to me when I had a nightmare.

Could she be singing to me from heaven? Maybe she's trying to communicate with me through the water. Maybe the pipes are channels through which angels communicate with us. Maybe Mom has never spoken to me because the pipes of the manor are dirty and old. I need to ask for Alfred clean them. What do you think?

He looked away for the old woman holding a scythe. She shrugged, still holding the blade, and remained there staring at him for ten minutes before she disappeared.

He closed his eyes again, enjoying the music that his mother sang from the sky.

'Stay awake' was crossed off his list.

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Three and a half weeks, almost a month and scientists had forgotten his existence. But, after all, who wouldn't? The visits were less frequent and the torture almost absent. Almost. They still did random questions, now more random than ever, the names of The Beatles' members and their successes. Sometimes they made him sing and he would be electrocuted if he didn't know the lyrics. He hated sadistic scientists with good musical taste.

In reality, he loved sadistic scientists with good musical taste. They could have made him sing Justin Bieber or 'Friday' by Rebecca Black and he didn't need another reason to want to die.

And his mother could hear him through the channel of the angels.

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Ploc Ploc Ploc...

One month.

A whole month had gone and Batman hadn't appeared. The scientists had forgotten and even the water drops seemed to fall more slowly than usual. Maybe his mother got tired of singing for him. Maybe she'd given up on him too. So Robin began to sing to himself because he still hadn't given up.

They say that everyone wants someone,

So how come no one wants me?

Then they say that everyone needs someone,

So how come no one needs me?

His voice echoed through the room and he realized how disturbing it was, but kept moving his mouth staring at the nothingness above him. He hated feeling weak but how could he not when his entire body seemed plucked? He could no longer feel his arms or legs, his hands wouldn't move, as much he tried, and his brain didn't work, because if it worked he would have realized that the chains that bound him had been gone for days. All that kept him there was a thin line of hope telling him that Batman would come.

They say that everyone loves someone,

So how come no one loves me?

Unlike him, the old woman with the scythe seemed to like the song and applauded when he stopped singing, she smiled gently and ran her hand through his hair. The ghost of a smile appeared on her lips as she raised her scythe. It was time to cross 'stay alive' off his list.

Ploc Ploc- Boom!

The walls fell and the masked man put himself in a battle position, expecting any attack that never came. He saw his sidekick lying on a table, singing.

"Robin?"

The music stopped and the boy turned his head to see him. He smiled shyly as he waited the man to save him. A few weeks ago Robin would have jumped for joy (figuratively speaking) and thrown into the arms of the man but now he was just so tired.

"They say that everyone loves someone, then how come you don't love me, Bruce?"

He looked at his foster-father and then to the old woman with the scythe. She smiled and walked away whispering 'sleep well'. His eyes finally closed and his mind went completely blank for the first time since he'd woken in that room with water falling over his forehead.

Now there was no sound of water or angels. Only him, Batman and the pipe. Or rather, only Batman and the pipe because he wasn't there anymore. Maybe Batman and the pipe could become friends. Maybe Bruce could take it home and train it to be the new Robin. That pipe would be much more useful than him, definitely.

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Ploc Ploc Ploc

And with horror Bruce saw what he feared most:

For a moment Robin thought that Batman wouldn't come.

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**A/N (22/11): **I'd like to thank **Sleuthy** for being a lovely and correct my story. Thanks for being patient and correct my mistakes!

I would also like to thank the people who favorited it and read the story before it was beta. Hope you enjoyed!


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